


By The Crackling Fire

by Carver_Edlund



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Twist and Shout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:30:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6418126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carver_Edlund/pseuds/Carver_Edlund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short one-shot 30 years after Cas has died. Dean reads over Cas' letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Crackling Fire

**Author's Note:**

> hey! This took me longer than I thought it would take(despite how short it is) because even though it's been over a year since I've read Twist and Shout, it still rips my heart out every time I think too hard about it. I hope you enjoy this short splurge. :)

August 2010  
12:34 AM

As the vibrant green leaves fade into auburn and dark brown, a warm fire crackles in the fireplace across from Dean. The nurturing heat surrounds him with pleasant memories of Cas. It reminds him of a time that once was but is now lost and although it’s been almost exactly 30 years since he last heard Cas’ wheezing voice, the pain still registers like it did in the beginning. It hits like a tidal wave and sweeps him up like he’s weightless although his heart feels heavy with the loss. 

The pen in his hand scrapes the paper with a last tearful effort and he sets it down, taking the ink filled paper and wrapping it carefully in on itself. 

With a wrinkled smile on his old face, he limps over with creaking bones to retrieve a box. A box that held every single letter Cas wrote when Dean was at war, plus the ones Dean would write on the days sadness reigned over him like a passing storm. 

He added yet another letter to the mix, one that gave a quick update on his life and explained his emotional state. 

Although he knew at the bottom of his heart that none of these letters would ever reach Cas, he had to believe that somehow, some day, they would. That was the only comfort that was awarded to him and he held onto it like a baby latches onto its mother's finger.

With a sigh, Dean paused to look at the box, now practically overflowing with letters. Occasionally, he would look through them and weep over the fond memories and today was such occasion. A small groan escaped his mouth as he picked the one he wanted to read. Of course, he could recite each letter by heart, but it was nice to see Cas' messy but somehow neat handwriting. To know that Cas once sat over this paper and ran a lazy pen across the lines as his emotions poured through him was heart wrenching. 

“Dean, 

I miss you like the moon misses the sun when it disappears over the horizon. I can hardly contain myself when I turn on the radio for news updates. Unfortunately, It seems the war will get worse before it gets better. I just hope that you are alright, Dean. Often, I listen to Elvis and think about the first time we met at the party. Do you remember that party? I remember it quite clearly, actually. You bought me a milkshake and then drove me back to my place on your motorcycle. You were(are) so beautiful and I long so wholeheartedly to lay my desperate eyes upon your perfectly freckled face.  
It’s sad here. So very sad. The leaves have wilted from the trees and the wind bites constantly at the windows. I miss you. God, Do I miss you. I miss the way you used to sing in the shower and hum when you cook. I miss your smile and goofy laugh. I miss your hearty voice and strong arms. I just miss YOU and it’s so frustrating to only be able to write.  
I’m sorry this letter turned so depressing...I should stop on a happy note, I guess. I’ll leave you with one of my favorite memories:  
We were waking up and it was just another Tuesday; you had to go to work and I didn’t want you to leave(just like every morning). But instead of just kissing my head and going out to start the coffee, like you usually did, you actually stayed that time. You laid back down with me in the warm bed then we just laid there together enjoying the early morning breeze coming from the window. I remember the soft music streaming in from our neighbor's room and apparently you knew the song, because you started humming softly.  
That was a time in my life where I can say with total honesty, I was truly happy and it was all because of you.  
I eagerly await your return, my love. Stay safe and come home.

-Castiel”

Dean smiled fondly to himself as he carefully laid the letter back in the box, lingering for a moment before putting the lid on it. He remembered perfectly that day. Cas had just been so warm and beautiful that Dean didn’t have the heart to leave him. It was actually one of his favorite memories as well.  
He must’ve read each letter at least a thousand times, but with every time comes a new onset of emotions. Sometimes it was anger; anger at himself for leaving Cas in the first place and sometimes it was happiness at the fond memories, but most of the time, it was extreme nostalgia. Nostalgia for dancing with Cas to some Elvis album or Nostalgia for the beach and the lost promise of someday owning an island. He wished he could go back and somehow make it to the island before he got drafted; before Adam and Cas died.  
The first years after Cas’ death were the hardest. He could barely eat and barely sleep(even less than usual) and in result, lost a whopping 60 pounds. It was when Dean had literally collapsed from malnutrition that made Sam send Dean to a group for people who have lost their spouses. That seemed to help some; it gave him some closure, but nothing would stop him from thinking about Castiel everyday. Like when he went grocery shopping, he would occasionally slip up and buy Cas’ favorite cereal(even though he hated it) or his old shampoo and smell it longingly.  
But as the years progressed, Dean started to do that less and although his heart hurt, he knew he had to stop letting it control his life. He had learned in therapy that it was okay to think about Cas, but he needed to get on with his life. He needed to let go; and for Dean, that was the hardest part. In fact, even after 30 years, Dean still thought about coming home to Cas listening to his albums and doing homework on the coffee table.  
Dean had to believe that some day, they would be reunited, but for now, his only real comfort was the letters that he held onto. He gave another hearty sigh before sitting in his creaky old chair again and as he reminisced about the past, a single fat tear ran down his wrinkled cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and kudo! Credit to the original author!


End file.
